Witch Hunters
by nine miles to go
Summary: Enter Chris' world. Witch hunters prowl the city streets at night and nobody's safe. How long can he hide with Piper constantly kicking him out? Why can't he ever be as good as Wyatt?
1. Chapter One

"Don't you have any sense?" the man demanded, cursing under his breath. "Wandering around like this in the middle of nowhere. Don't you know about the hunts, kid? Don't you know?"

Chris shook his head numbly, even though he knew exactly what the man was talking about. The witch hunts. The terrible people that raided the streets of the city slaying innocent victims. He understood everything.

The man sighed. "My house is down the block. Get in there, okay? It's raining anyway. Don't think that you're welcome there forever, though. I want you out the first thing in the morning. Got it?"

Chris looked up. It was raining, wasn't it? And dark, too. He'd been walking in the city aimlessly for a couple of hours now. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been told to leave the manor. Life was just like that with Wyatt for a brother, so he'd gotten used to it by now. Besides, if those witch hunters tried to grab him he'd surely fling some sort of spell at them. Chris was good at coming up with spells on the spot.

"Are you just gonna stand there, or are you coming?"

Finally Chris nodded at the man and followed him in the rain. The man's pace quickened and Chris had to run to keep up, but it was only a short distance. Hurriedly, the man jammed the key into the lock and shoved his door open, pushing Chris inside and slamming it shut.

He sighed, looking in Chris' direction. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," he muttered under his breath. "Little five-year-olds running around in the street during times like this. What the hell is the matter with you, kid?"

Chris shrugged at him. He couldn't really care less about being in his house. Outside was just as good to him anyway.

"Are you deaf or something?"

"No," Chris snapped crossly. "Are you drunk?"

"What the hell was that?" the man snapped right back. "Drunk? I just let you in my house, kid! That's some way of being grateful. A thank you would have been more appropriate. Idiot kid. Out in the dark."

"You forget that you were out there, too," Chris challenged him.

The man froze. Chris flashed him the tiniest hint of a smirk—just enough to put the man back in his place.

Finally the stranger sat down on the bottom step of his staircase and looked Chris in the eye. "Clever, aren't you? Not the average toddler, I see."

"I'm not five, by the way. I'm six and a half."

"Wonderful."

"So what were you doing out there?" Chris asked.

"Gee, kid, what were YOU doing out there?" he shot right back. "I'm an adult. I don't have to prove anything to you. So either stay quiet and stop nosing around or leave."

Chris reached for the door handle.

"I wasn't serious!" The man grabbed at the handle, making sure it was locked. "I'm not that cruel. You'll get killed out there, dumbass."

Chris laughed. "No, I won't."

The man just shook his head. "You have no idea."

"You'd be surprised."

The two of them stared long and hard at each other. "No questions on tonight, then?" the man offered, sticking out his hand.

Chris shook it. "No questions," Chris agreed.

"So, kid, what's your name?"

"I'm Chris. You?"

"Travis," said the man. "Where do you live?"

"Around," said Chris. Which wasn't a total lie. It was only about ten miles from here and he knew his way home pretty well. In fact, he'd been right up this man's street before; it was a wonder he hadn't run into him before. Maybe he had.

"Okay, then. Keep your secrets. Doesn't matter, you'll be gone in the morning and some other idiot will be burned at the stake tonight instead."

An eerie silence followed that statement.

"Someday it'll stop," Chris said, mostly to assure himself.

Travis scoffed. "Someday when everyone's dead and the hunters break into civil war and all kill each other, it'll stop."

Lights shone outside the window. Travis reached over and shut the blinds. "We barely made it in. The hunters are coming through the town now. Consider yourself lucky."

"They don't check some of the alleys."

"Which alleys?" asked Travis, suddenly curious. "You seem experienced."

"I'm tired," said Chris, twisting the conversation around.

"Up the stairs and to your right," Travis directed him, pointing. "Take off those wet shoes."

Chris obliged, his cheeks slightly reddening at the condition of his sneakers. They weren't his, actually—they were Wyatt's old shoes. But when Wyatt wore them they weren't filled with holes and permanently caked with mud stains. Everything Chris owned was Wyatt's at one point.

Well, there were a few things that Chris could call his own. But they only made him want to cry now.

"Your backpack says Wyatt on it," Travis noted.

"Does it?" Chris said vaguely. "No questions, remember." He headed up the stairs.

"Sure," Trevor snickered, "Wyatt."

Chris rounded on him on the stairs, his face twisted in anger. He immediately suppressed it and put his demeanor back into neutral before saying in a controlled voice, "Please don't call me that. I said my name was Chris and I meant it."

"Alright, then."

Chris took a deep breath and headed up to the room, flicking the lights off and flopping on the bed exhaustedly. Today had been long. It was nearly midnight now and he winced, recalling the day's events. School had been normal. Kids had pretty much ignored him and he only got tripped once, and he'd managed to hold on to his lunch money. Probably because the assembly on bullying last week had scared some of his tormentors off for a while. They'd be back, though. Every year the assembly's morale held them off for a month or so and they'd start again.

Anyway, he'd missed the bus after school because Wyatt had told him to wait for him by the flagpole. Wyatt never showed up, so Chris had to walk the three miles home. And then Piper, his mother, was furious he was late because he was supposed to watch his cousin Paisley while Phoebe and Cole went on a business meeting. She slapped him, because then she was late to set up for the P3.

Wyatt locked Chris out of their room and Chris couldn't get his homework. Then, when Chris tried to make Paisley a sandwich the peanut butter seemingly fell "accidentally" from the top shelf and pelted Chris in the head. After that Wyatt orbed him to the top of the Golden Gate Bridge and left him there, knowing how terrified Chris was of heights. When Paisley started driving him insane, however, Wyatt had returned and orbed him home on top of Piper's plant.

The plant shattered of course, and Piper arrived home just in time to find him stand up in the pile of dirt. She shrieked, throwing his—well, Wyatt's—back pack at him and telling him to leave.

Chris rolled over on his side and blocked out the thoughts. It was just another day. Tomorrow was Saturday, so maybe Piper would let him back in the house again since she'd be gone all day on business.

Sighing, he closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't laugh at me. (SIGHS)

* * *

After having a quick dinner, Travis decided to turn in for the night as well. He couldn't stop thinking about how peculiar this kid was, though. Was he really that cocky, or did he know something the rest of the world didn't? Was there some way to avoid the witch hunters? Did he really think they could be stopped?

A positive thinker like the kid—that's what the world needed right now. Too bad positive thinkers were usually the first ones to die. Travis had every intention of squashing the quality out of the kid if given the opportunity, because he really didn't want to see the kid die like he'd seen Alliance members die. It was a terrible death, being burned at the stake.

Frowning, he tried to recall everything the kid told him. Six and a half, named Chris, lived "around." Pretty sketchy for a little kid. Travis wondered if he were an orphan or something. He looked pretty ragged in an oversized red t-shirt, ripped jeans and shoes so torn up they could hardly be called shoes anymore.

He looked sad, too. Travis knew the kid was hiding something cleverly, but the kid couldn't hide his sadness effectively in front of him. As a squadron leader in the Alliance, he'd seen every kind of sadness there was left to see and he was only twenty-five.

Just after he turned off his lights, he saw the kid's lights flick back on down the hall. As quietly as he could, he walked across the carpet and stood by the door to the kid's room, trying to make sure he wasn't going to loot him and leave. Travis had booby-traps for this of course, but you could never be too sure if they worked. Sometimes it was a demon staying overnight. Sometimes it was a six-and-a-half year old. You never knew.

However, the door never opened. Travis heard the kid gasping for air, his breaths shaky and jagged.

"Abby," he muttered to himself, taking a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry."

After a moment or two the lights flicked back off. Travis knew the kid wasn't asleep, though, so he waited five minutes or so before finally returning to his room and falling back into bed.

Secrets. Everyone had them these days.

* * *

_Chris. Chris, don't let them take me. _

"Abby?" Chris called out. "Abby, is that you? Where are you?"

_I'm over here! Help! _

Chris' ears strained to hear where the noise came from. All around him was pitch black; not a shape was visible in the perpetual darkness surrounding him. Abby was in trouble and there was nothing he could do to help.

"Abby…where…" He stumbled, falling over something. He couldn't get up. He was trapped, and Abby was being taken…again…

_CHRIS! _

Chris jolted awake and whirled around, trying to figure out where he was. Frantically he reached for the lamp by his bed to flick it on, but didn't find it. In a burst of fear he threw his hand at the opposite wall, eventually finding the light and turning it on.

The room was painted with dark green walls and white sheets were on the bed underneath him. He was at the stranger's house, but it didn't matter. The lights were on and it wasn't dark anymore. Chris was in control.

His heart pounded in his ears and he gasped to himself, remembering the voice of his little sister so vivid in his imagination. It had only been a dream. Abby wasn't in trouble.

Abby couldn't be in trouble anymore. Abby was dead.

Tears sprung into his eyes as the terrible scene plagued his memory again as it did every night. Abby, the only good aspect of his life he could truly remember. The reason he had brushed everything off at school. The reason he'd disregarded Leo not caring and all the attacking demons. She was gone forever. If only he'd been there as it happened…if only he'd been able to protect her…

"Abby…I'm sorry."

After she had died, everything had fallen apart. Piper, Wyatt, Chris and Abby used to all be so close. The picture perfect family, even without Leo. Then Abby died, and everything changed.

It had been a year and a half. She'd be five in a couple of months, Chris realized.

Someone outside shrieked. An alarm rang outside, and Chris winced as he heard the hunters take another victim into custody. He wished he could orb. He wished he could control his telekinesis. But he was worthless, so it didn't matter.

Sighing, he flicked off the lights and shut his eyes tight. At least the dreams only happened once a night.

* * *

Chris woke up to the morning light pouring in through the windows and he smiled slightly to himself. It was nice waking up and not seeing Wyatt asleep across the room. It felt safe. And this was even better—usually when Wyatt wasn't there, Chris was sleeping on the concrete in an alley.

He sat up and picked up his backpack, checking the watch with the broken wrist strap he kept inside the front pocket. It read 6:30am.

_I want you out the first thing in the morning. Got it?_

Chris made up the bed and flicked the lights off. Quietly as he could, he made his way down the stairs and slipped on his shoes. He reached for the doorknob and tried to turn it.

It was locked. He reached his hand up to unlock it and received and electric shock that threw him backwards and into the bottom of the wooden stair.

He took a sharp breath, suppressing a cry. His head felt fuzzy for a moment but he managed to right himself and stand back up.

"Stupid door. Rigged. Should've figured," he muttered under his breath, stretching out his back and trying to make the pain go away.

Based on this, he knew that all the windows would be rigged, too. Carefully he scoped out the first floor for a possible escape route. He didn't want to have to wake up Travis, especially now when he couldn't be certain whether the man was a demon or not. There was magic in this house. Chris was alert enough now to feel it.

Finally his eyes rested on the cat flap on the door. It was pretty small. Not big enough for anyone that would pose a threat, but just small enough for Chris to squeeze through at his already small stature. Chris took a step closer to inspect it.

"Don't even think about it, it's protected too," Travis warned from the top of the stairs.

Chris gave him a blank expression. "Oh. Thanks. Well, I'm ready to go now. Thanks for letting me spend the night." He masked the newfound fear of Travis and gave him the most neutral expression he could manage to muster under the circumstances.

"You don't have to leave just yet," Travis offered. "Are you hungry?"

Chris was too panicked to leave to be hungry. He shook his head. "Thanks, though."

"No problem, kid. Drop by anytime," he offered. "I may have seemed a little grouchy last night, but…well, you know, times like this."

"Times like this," Chris repeated, nodding.

"See you around?"

"Maybe," Chris shrugged. "Probably."

"Bye, kid," said Travis, opening the door for Chris.

Chris nearly breathed a sigh of relief, but managed not to. "Bye," he said, giving Travis a small smile before escaping out the front walk.

Okay, maybe freaking out was a little irrational. But now Chris knew something for sure. Travis was hiding something…and the Halliwells definitely weren't the only witches on the block anymore.

Chris looked at the stretch of pavement ahead of him, slick with the still pouring rain. Make that ten miles worth of blocks, he thought to himself irritably as he began the trek home. At least there was someone else—which meant that there were others.

Yet Chris felt no need to hurry and tell anyone. In fact, he was pretty sure that this tidbit of information he'd keep to himself.

* * *

Phoebe groaned as she woke to the alarm clock.

"You're listening to 98.6, your choice for the best music mix—it's currently eight o'clock in the morning on this rainy—"

She slammed the alarm off and yawned loudly. The meeting she and Cole had attended for the Bay Mirror had lasted until really late the night before, and now she had to get right back to work. Lucky Cole. As a freelance reporter, his hours weren't necessarily assigned; some days he worked nonstop, but some days like today he got to sleep in.

Phoebe looked beside her in bed but saw that Cole had already risen. The rich scent of coffee wafted up the stairs and she smiled to herself.

"Aunt Phoebe, Uncle Cole said to tell you breakfast is ready," said Wyatt, popping his head into the room.

"Thanks, sweetie. Tell him I'll be just a minute."

"Sure thing."

Phoebe stared at the door as her nephew bounded back down the stairs. At eight years old, there was something…well, different about him. She couldn't quite place her finger on it. There was no doubt that the boy was much more mature than any other of the boys his age; in the Halliwell manor, you really couldn't help but be that way.

But it was more than mature. Sometimes Wyatt could finish off demons just a little too well.

She shrugged it off. This was not the time to be worrying about that. Why couldn't she just learn to simplify things and live life as if it were normal for once? She should just go and sit down and eat breakfast like a regular person would.

Blocking Wyatt out of her mind, she dressed into her work clothes and armed herself with her trusty laptop and cell phone and headed down the stairs.

"Mmmm. Pancakes, Piper?"

"Not me," Piper laughed. "Cole."

Phoebe raised her eyebrows when she saw her husband half-covered with flour, a batter-caked spatula in his hand. "You look incredibly sexy cooking pancakes, hon," she joked.

"Mommy said the 's' word!" Paisley gasped.

Wyatt rolled his eyes. Phoebe wished her empath abilities worked on her family.

"That was just the effect I was going for," Cole teased. He handed her a plate. "There you are. Cherry jam, just like you like 'em."

She kissed his cheek. "Thanks, Cole." He grinned at her.

Immediately Phoebe knew something was wrong when she sat down. Scoping the kitchen, she saw Paisley harassing Cole, Wyatt sitting quietly wolfing pancake, Piper reading the paper…

"Where's Chris?"

Piper tensed. "Not here."

Phoebe's eyes widened. "Piper! Not again!"

Piper slapped the paper down on the table in a huff, folding it up. "What? He was misbehaving. He needs to learn," she justified.

"Piper, no," Phoebe shot back. "You're wrong. He's six years old! You can't just go kicking out little kids! He could be…oh my god, Piper, you don't even get it, do you? Haven't you seen what those hunters are doing? They're ruthless. They'll kill anyone."

"Chris is just a kid. They don't care."

"They've killed babies. Even pregnant mothers."

Silence.

"C'mon, Paisley, let's get in the car. We'll go look for him," Cole instructed. He gave Piper a hard expression. "Are you coming?"

Piper hesitated, her eyes darting from the driveway to the kitchen.

"No. He's fine. You'll see. This whole fuss is all about nothing."

The phone rang and everybody jumped. Paisley's plate splattered on the floor.

"Calm down," Phoebe said, taking a deep breath. She picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, Pheebs, c'est moi."

Phoebe heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh my God, Paige, you scared us."

"Pourquoi?"

"Don't you 'pourquoi' me, missy," said Phoebe. "I don't understand a word you're saying!"

"Fine, fine. It's just, I look weird speaking English like this from a payphone."

"Handle it. Chris is missing."

Paige gasped. "What happened? Not again."

"I don't even know. Probably something stupid. This is really getting out of control." Phoebe turned around to glare at Piper. "I really have to get to work, though. Cole and Paisley were going to go look for him. Could you…?"

"No problem. I'll orb right over," Paige promised, hanging up the phone. In a few minutes she appeared in a flurry of orbs. "Sorry…had to find a dark alley somewhere," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Right. Could you just orb to Chris really fast?" said Phoebe, antsy to get to work on time but reluctant to leave before Chris was found.

"Sure." She closed her eyes. "Uh…"

The front door opened and shut closed.

"…looks like my work here is done!" Paige laughed. "I gotta get back to work. Clothes don't design themselves. Call me if anything's up, 'kay, Pheebs?" She hugged her older sister, waved to Cole and kissed Wyatt and Paisley on the cheek.

"You could—" Paige orbed out. "—stay for breakfast," Phoebe finished.

Phoebe listened as Chris mounted the steps and heard his bedroom door shut quietly behind him. She sighed, wondering to herself where he was all night. Where he was practically every night. It seemed like he was never around anymore, and who could blame him? Phoebe only had a foggy idea of what happened in the manor during her absence, but a part of her really didn't want to know.

"I'll see you all tonight. Bye," said Phoebe, grabbing her various technological tools and heading out.

* * *

Not much of a cliffie, but I gotta go to school lol! Thanks for all the fabulous reviews! It makes me happyyyyyy!


	3. Chapter Three

Note to all the reviewers: YES. PIPER IS OUT OF CHARACTER. DOES IT REALLY TAKE A GENIUS? I can't even count how many reviews I got telling me that! I've been watching Charmed for four years! Be. Patient. I've done things like this before and people haven't harassed me about it. Fyi, Piper is my fave Charmed One. Usually I will not make her evil without an explanation. Wait and see and quit complaining!

(DEEP BREATH)

That is all.

Now you may continue. :D :D :D Lol.

* * *

Chapter Three

Chris sat on his bed stared absent-mindedly at the wall. Three. Two. One.

Orbs to the left of him.

"Wyatt," he greeted his brother, nodding but not making eye contact.

"Chris," said Wyatt in return.

Chris remained locked in position, unmoving. Wyatt couldn't hurt him in the manor. He wouldn't dare hurt him in front of anyone. Even if Piper slapped him, it was never truly that hard; she didn't believe in violence if it could be avoided (the occasional demon, she explained, is perfectly justifiable). And Wyatt was staying on Piper's good side. For now.

"Where'd you go last night?" asked Wyatt.

Chris cocked an eyebrow. This was unusual. Usually Wyatt didn't give a crap whether he came or went.

"Nowhere in particular," Chris answered him vaguely.

Wyatt sat down on his own bed and positioned himself in Chris' line of view. "You could've been killed, you know. Hunted. By the witches." He said this without much emotion in his face, just staring at Chris.

Chris waited a moment before responding, carefully weighing in this conversation and trying to figure out how Wyatt was going to sweep this around to get the upper hand. "When did you ever care?" he asked.

"I don't know what I'd do…" Wyatt grinned. "…if something ever happened to you."

"I'm touched."

"One of these days, Chris, you'll be able to do more than just clumsy telekinesis. You need to consider the choices."

"There isn't a choice. Powers are for saving innocents. They're for the greater good."

Wyatt snorted. "The greater good sure didn't save Abby, did it?"

Chris recoiled at the stinging words. "That has nothing to do with it. Everything…happens…for a reason," Chris forced out, the words like sand on his tongue.

Wyatt leaned in closer. "Do you really believe that, Chris? Do you really mean that?"

"What do you want from me?" Chris snapped at him.

"Why do you assume I want something?" Wyatt asked innocently.

"I know you, Wyatt. You don't care about me. You never have." He glared at his older brother, thinking to himself, _Except for when Abby was alive_. "Just cut to the chase, will you? Do you need money or something? I've got twenty dollars. That's it. But then again, you already know where that is, don't you?"

"Chris, I want your help," Wyatt finally managed to say. Now it was his turn to say something that made his stomach churn.

Chris laughed out loud. "My help? With what? I can't do anything."

Wyatt took a steadying breath. "This is hard to admit, Chris, but…I can't…" He cleared his throat. "I have powers, but I can't exactly figure out how to do some things."

"Like what?"

"I can't think of spells. I can't do potions. I can't tweak things or improvise. All I have is these powers."

"You poor thing," Chris mocked him sarcastically. "Poor little Wyatt with his shield and telekinesis and plasma balls. Oh, I think I'm gonna cry now."

"Shut up," Wyatt hissed.

"Tsk, tsk, Wyatt. You're not going to get anything from me acting rude." Chris liked this new glory he had over Wyatt. It didn't occur to Chris that Wyatt would ever need him for anything. But now the tables had turned. The impossible had happened. "So what are you trying to do?"

"Access a parallel world."

Chris froze. "What?"

"You heard me."

The breath in Chris' lungs seemed to hold the air prisoner. The room went silent. "You," Chris seethed. "You've been reading my notebooks." He slung his backpack off of his shoulders and held it to his chest protectively. "Why, Wyatt? Why do you care about Abby?"

"Because I think you're right. I think there's a chance she's still out there."

"Wyatt, it's _not real_! It's just…I made up a different world…because I miss her." Chris swallowed down his tears. "I needed to pretend she was okay. It's stupid, alright? Are you happy now?" He looked down at the floor, ashamed.

"That's just it, Chris. It's not stupid. There _are _worlds parallel to ours."

Chris met Wyatt's face, eyes narrowed. "There's no mention of that in the Book of Shadows. I know that thing cover to cover."

"It's not the book. The library at Magic School—yes, Chris, _I _read books—has all sorts of stuff on parallel worlds. I think—"

"Stop it!" Chris begged. "You're just making it worse, Wyatt. You're always making it worse."

"You wanna know why, Chris? It's because our mother _wants _me to! Do you realize that she always rewards me when I hurt you? When I snap at her? Don't you get it!" Wyatt grew excited. "_She's not our mother. _She's Piper, but she's not _our _Piper."

"What does this have to do with Abby? Wyatt, you're crazy," Chris insisted. But even as he said this he grew more convinced it must be true.

"You were young, Chris. You can't remember Abby dying, can you?"

"I remember every little detail of that night," Chris countered. "Every little detail. It's etched into my brain. I remember everything."

"Then can you remember what it was like before she died?" Wyatt asked. "Piper made cookies and gave all her employees huge Christmas bonuses the winter it happened. Remember how she'd always pick us up after school? And she let us ride the bus when we begged her to, and she'd wait at the stop for us every time?" Wyatt was near tears. "And whenever I hit you, she'd punish me and make us hug each other afterwards. Now she just laughs and pats me on the head. That's not right, Chris."

Chris scoffed. "Sure didn't stop you."

"I haven't hit you in a month. Or stolen your money, for that matter. I'm old enough to get it now. In the past, I've just done what she's told me is right. After all, she was my mother—she couldn't be wrong. But I get it now. I'm catching on to something you must have known all along. She's wrong."

"But that doesn't mean she's not our mother."

"It could. I asked Cole about the night before Abby disappeared. Apparently up at magic school that night, some of the kids majoring in other worlds and time travel screwed up. Cole knew because his class on magical creatures was down the hall. Remember the day care, Chris? We thought that Abby got lost after we were home. Then they found her body…in that alley."

Chris shuddered. Wyatt pretended not to notice.

"What if," Wyatt proposed, "that wasn't _our _Abby?"

"It was her," Chris said quietly. "I know it was her. I will accept that there's a possibility that the woman downstairs may not be our mother, but nothing you tell me will persuade me that Abby isn't dead."

"It doesn't have to be this way, Chris. There's a chance. You don't have to get your hopes up…just help me, okay? I'm your brother, Chris. And Abby's your sister."

Chris couldn't help it. Tears rolled down his cheek and he shuddered, trying to block out all the grief and regret. He swiped at his eyes angrily, but it was no use. This was worse than a nightmare. Now it was reality again.

"Chris…" Wyatt stood up and hugged him. "I'm sorry."

Chris hugged him back. "So am I."

When they released, Wyatt asked, "What are you sorry for?"

"I…I've never told anyone this," Chris whispered, his voice shaking. "But Abby and I…we heard each other's thoughts. It was my fault, really. When I got lost in the park—I must have been four or so at the time—Aunt Paige tried to cast some sort of silly spell that would prevent me from getting lost again. She thought it didn't work. She thought nothing had happened…but something did.

"From that day forward, I could feel Abby's emotions. I couldn't purposefully look in on her thoughts, though. She had to send me a message through her mind if she wanted to communicate with words. But we could always _feel _each other. The night we died…I heard her screaming…"

Chris let out a sob. "Do you know what that was like, Wyatt? Knowing she was dying and being unable to do anything? It was so dark in our bedroom that night, and we were all alone. All the adults had gone to look for her. I called for Paige but nobody came…I couldn't see anything at all, and she was screaming for me to help her…It's my fault."

"Chris, there's nothing you could've done. You were barely five," Wyatt protested.

"She depended on me. Losing her…was like losing half of myself. I know she's dead, Wyatt. I buried her a long time ago."

"I'm not burying her, Chris," Wyatt persisted. "I think there's a chance she's alive."

"I'll help you," Chris told him, "but only because I want to help Mom. I want Abby to be alive more than anyone, but I know…I know it's too late for her."

The door knocked. Wyatt pulled back from Chris immediately, and Chris rubbed his eyes frantically to compose himself.

"Come in," Wyatt said when Chris seemed ready enough.

Cole walked inside. "Just wanted to know if Chris wanted any pancakes."

Chris gave him a wide smile. "Sure. Thanks, Uncle Cole."

"You're very welcome. There's a plate on the table for you downstairs, 'kay?" Cole gave him a sympathetic glance. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," said Chris, as if nothing had happened. That's just how it went these days.

Or maybe it could change.

* * *

See? SEE? I told you it would all work out. I wasn't going to get to this part for another chappie or so, but I figured I'd better do it quick. Lol. Thanks for all the reviews, though, it's nice to know people are reading.


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: Don't own Charmed. My socks don't match today and I forgot what the heck an inverse was. Lol. I've been outta sorts all day, so if this chappie is a lil wierd...er, weird, excuse me...you'll know why...lol just kidding I did this chappie yesterday (thought I'd posted it but I was wrong!)

* * *

Chapter Four

Travis walked down the streets of San Francisco as casually as he could. Whenever he saw a cop or suspicious looking person, he'd pull out a cell phone and pretend to talk on it so they wouldn't bother him. He zipped up his raincoat, unzipped it; generally fiddled around like a normal person would. Not like there were explosives in his pocket. Much to his annoyance, he needed the weapons.

But the Alliance needed him more.

"Okay, Susie, I'll call you back," he muttered into the dead cell phone as a cop car passed by. As soon as they drove away, he said into it, "Of course I'd love to stick around and chat, but hell, it's a little difficult. I find you just a little boring. Hope you don't take offense, honey." Rolling his eyes, he hung up. There was only a block to go. Fortunately the Alliance headquarters were only about a mile away from his house.

He rounded the corner into an alley. "Peace," he said to the brick wall. It slid open and allowed him entrance, shutting tight behind him.

Inside was a bustling society that rather resembled an office building. Cubicles scattered the area while the Brains (as the people in training affectionately dubbed them) worked out battle plans and schemes. They weren't just brains, though; some of them had to be pretty good liars. A few of them were even ex-CIA agents. That was, of course, only because the CIA had pretty much gone caput after all the Witch Hunting started. No one could control the riots. Espionage in other countries became less of an issue.

Travis waved hello to a few of the people he knew, some of which he'd recruited himself. That was part of his job as a squadron leader. He recruited people for his squadron and trained them. They hadn't actually fought anyone yet, but Travis was sure that day would come eventually.

"Yo, Travis, my man!"

Travis looked back. His friend Jack, one of the Brains, motioned him over to a messy cubicle with a laptop. "Just thought I'd let you know…we sense a new power in the area."

"Sense? Says who?"

"Diana."

"Can I talk to her?"

"She's not here right now. Wanna read the report? I just printed it off," said Jack, picking up a paper from the tray.

_Rumors of new power in the city of San Francisco. Out on a lead. Be back by midnight, assuming. –Diana_

"Interesting," said Travis. "Did she mention anything specific? Good or bad? What kind of power was it?"

Jack shrugged. "Sorry, I heard as much as you did. Hopefully it's on our side, though."

"Yeah, hopefully. Well, I'm going down to the training unit. See you later tonight for the meeting, then?"

"Yeah, see you then," said Jack, taking the report back and sitting back on the swivel chair to type on his laptop. "I'm talking to a Witch Hunter," he revealed in a whisper. "They think I'm one of them. I think I'm getting some good information on what parts of the city they're hitting."

"That's great," Travis encouraged him. "Just be careful."

"Sure."

Travis hit the down arrow button on the elevator and waited. Once inside, he checked his watch. About three pm. Was it really going to take Diana until midnight? he thought to himself, frowning. He couldn't help but worry if it was going to take that long. This person must be pretty sneaky. Then again, nobody possessing any sort of magic was eager to be found these days.

He sighed to himself in the empty elevator. Something so grand and magnificent perceived as evil to the world—it was such a shame.

Suddenly the elevator spun. He grabbed the side wall and waited. He knew what was going to happen.

_A boy moaned in the darkness. In the distance there were torches coming closer, angry voices gaining on him. _

Travis strained to see more, but it was near impossible. Everything was completely black around them.

"_Help…" _

Travis snapped out of the vision just as quickly as he'd snapped into it.

"Coach?" asked one of the younger teens he was training. The elevator had reached his floor and the door was open on the training grounds. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Tony. Spaced out. Go find Zachary, will you? He'll be training you today, I have to train the older groups."

"Sure, Coach."

Travis knew that there were many open witches in the Alliance these days, and that it wasn't that big of a deal when someone possessed powers. Yet Travis still didn't feel comfortable with people knowing he was a witch. It wasn't safe, he decided. You could never be too sure.

He pushed the vision into the back of his mind. Usually he'd receive random visions that would have nothing to do with him, and this was probably one of them. It didn't look like his new squadron would be readily trained for awhile, so chances were that he wouldn't be going out to patrol for anytime soon.

The sliding doors opened into the training area. "Everyone here and accounted for?" Travis asked.

"Yeah," one of the older trainees, probably about five years older than Travis himself, responded. "Everyone's here."

"Then let's get started."

* * *

Chris shifted his fork on his plate, moving the gooey syrupy mess of pancake around absent-mindedly. Carefully he recounted the conversation he and Wyatt had. Well, it made sense. Somewhere deep inside Chris had known Wyatt never really hated him. In a way, Chris was sure that Piper—whether she was the Piper of this world or not—didn't hate him, either.

"Quit doing that," Piper scolded him.

Chris dropped the fork, but otherwise ignored her. "Hey, Paisley, you wanna go to the park?" he asked her.

"Sure!" The little girl hopped up from the chair, her strawberry blonde curls bouncing. "Let's go."

"I'm coming too," Wyatt said suddenly.

"Have fun." Piper pulled her chair away from the table, standing up without taking her plate away. "I'm going to a meeting, alright? Don't stay out too long."

She was talking to Wyatt, of course, but Chris didn't really care. Hope overwhelmed him now. He didn't mean to be hopeful because he knew there was a chance he could be wrong, but it seemed like there could finally be a light at the end of the tunnel. He couldn't have Abby back, but…

"Lemme get my coat," said Paisley, running into the hallway. "Mommy! Daddy! We're going to the park, okay?" she called.

"_Chris, don't you wanna go to the park with me?"_

"_But it's cold outside. Besides, Mommy's not home yet. We shouldn't. Just stay put, okay?" _

"_Okay." _

Chris flinched. "Wyatt, do you have a coat I can borrow?" he asked.

"No, loser," Wyatt sneered. "Why would I let you borrow one of my coats? You'd stink it up."

Chris caught a glance at Piper. She didn't react, but Chris thought he saw the hint of a smile. Could Wyatt be right? Were they seriously onto something now?

"Let's _go_," Paisley stressed impatiently from the doorway. "Hurry _up_."

"Sorry," Chris muttered, leaving the house.

"Here." Wyatt handed Chris a second sweater he'd smuggled under his coat. "Couldn't find anything else that I could hide easily."

Chris smiled. "Thanks."

Once they arrived at the park, Paisley set to the slides and Chris and Wyatt sat down in the sandbox. Chris smirked. People probably thought they were just your average little kids playing around.

"I've found a spell based on the research I've done," Wyatt informed him.

Chris cocked an eyebrow. "Then what do you need me for?"

"I can't do it alone, Chris. There needs to be somebody else."

"So I'm back-up."

"No, not back-up. A partner. I mean, like I said, you're the brains of the operation. I just read things—I can't come up with them on the fly," Wyatt explained. "Anyway, I was thinking…maybe tonight?"

"Tonight? To do what?"

"The spell."

"You never told me what the spell was for."

"To get to the other dimension. The parallel universe Mom is stuck in," Wyatt said, exasperated. "Aren't you following me?"

"Trying to. Slow down. Sometimes you have to think these things out, Wyatt. We can't just go barging into a parallel universe. How would we explain ourselves? 'Hi, I'm your nephew Chris, except I like fairies and nature and love. Could I borrow my mommy for a moment and duck into an unknown portal?'"

"We wouldn't be that stupid."

"Okay, then how do you propose we do it?"

Wyatt didn't say anything. He fiddled with his hands in the sand before finally admitting, "Fine. You're right. Then what do you propose we do?"

"Disguise ourselves, for one thing. The two of us being there is going to throw off balance in our realm as it is—let's not screw up theirs' as well." Chris frowned in thought. "We'll need plenty of potions and we'll have to keep our guard up. If the Piper we know now is twisted, chances are the rest of them will be too."

"Potions. Right. I'll get on that."

"It'll take at least a day, Wyatt."

"Not if we work together—the adults are out most of the day."

Chris was growing agitated. It was just like Wyatt to jump into things. Couldn't he ever just test the waters before he dove? Couldn't he think for just a moment?

"Yeah, but we're going to need more potions than one day can produce. Stronger potions. It might take a little while."

"We don't have that kind of time!" Wyatt pressed. "Mom and Abby are stuck!"

"Abby isn't—" Chris took a deep breath. "It's been a year and a half, Wyatt. We can wait a week longer."

"A week?" Wyatt nearly squealed, his face falling.

"You wanted my help," Chris pointed out. "You're getting it."

"A _week_," Wyatt grumbled. "Might as well just sit on our butts and let Piper screw us over. Huh? Is that what you want?"

"No! You know that's not what I want!"

"Then we'll do it tonight," Wyatt pressed, his eyes full of mischievous glint. "Tonight. Think of how happy Mom and Abby will be to see us after all this time."

Chris sighed. "There's no way I can talk you out of this, then?"

"Probably not." Wyatt grinned sheepishly.

Chris paused for a moment. "Alright," he gave in, offering his fist. "I'm in."

The two brothers pounded fists, marking the beginning of their new promise to each other.

Yet Chris couldn't shake the feeling of dread. He watched Paisley on the monkey bars, so carefree and happy, not even caring that half the world could see up her skirt—she was so joyful. So innocent.

What had happened to them?

* * *

Thanks for all the reviews, guys!


	5. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: One of these days, Brad Kern...you'd better watch it...lol. Eh. Chris was the best thing that ever happened to Charmed, in my opinion, and that loser took him away. Drew...so...hot...Lol. I swore to myself that I'd never go goo-goo in love with an actor after I saw what Orlando Bloom did to all the poor swooning women in America, but one look at Drew's face...omg...(shutting up now). DREW IS HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT!

Okay. Er. I don't own Charmed, I guess, but I have dreams. LOTS OF 'EM.

* * *

Chapter Five 

"Daffodil root? Hey, Wyatt, do we have any daffodil root?"

Wyatt scrunched his nose. "What in the world are you concocting over there? It smells like dead rat."

"You've been near dead rats lately?"

"You know what I mean." Wyatt rolled his eyes. "I hope we can get that smell out of the air by the time the adults get home."

"Don't worry, I'm on it. Break n' Bake cookies in the oven. Thank God for Pilsbury," Chris muttered. "Seriously. I need daffodil root. This is some kind of sleep-inducing potion—good to use on one of the Evil Relatives," Chris said, using the new name they'd dubbed the unknown people of the mystery world.

"Here's your dead plant, your highness. Do it quick, will you? I need the stove."

"What's yours doing?"

"Huh?"

"Your potion. Which one are you making?"

"Campbell's soup."

"You're kidding, right?"

Wyatt sighed, putting the can back. "Fine. I'll make the paralyzing one. It's gotta be refrigerated for a couple of hours, anyway."

"Good. Get to work on that, then."

"Cookies!" Paisley squealed, rushing into the room. "Can I have a cookie, Chris? Please please please please?" she begged.

"They're not ready yet, okay? Come back in, like, five minutes. They'll have to cool down for a while, too."

"Okey-dokey. What are you doing?"

"Helping Mom make potions," Wyatt lied smoothly. "It's pretty gross. Look at Chris'—isn't it awesome?"

"Ewww!" Paisley shrieked, running into the living room. "I'll be watching Dora if you need me," she huffed, thoroughly disgusted with the pair of them.

Chris froze. "Wyatt. I can't lie," he realized, his eyes growing wide.

"What do you mean?" asked Wyatt, focusing on squeezing some sort of blue pus out of a storage container.

"I. Can't. Lie," Chris repeated. "I'm a terrible liar. And we're going to have to disguise ourselves. Oh, crap. This _sucks. _What are we going to do?"

"Simple. You just stay quiet and nod your head whenever I tell you to do something."

"Sure," Chris said doubtfully.

By early evening they had a good two dozen potions at their ready. Quickly they cleaned up the mess and scoured the kitchen for any remaining evidence of their activities. Just as the last sweep of the room was finished, Piper walked in the door.

"Aunty Piperrrrrr!" Paisley exclaimed, jumping up and down at her arrival.

Piper groaned. "Who fed her sugar?"

"Chris made cookieeeeesssss!" she squealed.

Wyatt grimaced. Chris sighed.

"He did _what_?" Piper exclaimed. "Christopher Perry Halliwell, come here _right now_."

Chris walked calmly over to her. "Yes?"

"What did I tell you about sweets while I was away?"

"You told me not to eat them. You didn't say anything about Paisley not eating them. You're not her mother."

Piper glared, her eyes becoming mere slits. In this moment Chris knew for sure and wondered how he could have been so blind in his grief for Abby. This wasn't Piper. It never had been Piper. Not _their _Piper, at least. She really, truly hated good.

"Are you _sassing_ me?" Piper hissed.

"No, m'am."

"Don't you 'm'am' me like an old lady!" Piper yelled. "I've had enough of you! You shouldn't—the way you're sneaking around all the time, making my sisters mad at me. You're such a nuisance. Such a little _menace_. What did I do to deserve you? Why can't you be more like Wyatt?"

"Yeah, Chris, why can't you be more like _me_?" Wyatt asked snidely. His eyes pleaded otherwise, though, and Chris understood. But he didn't like what was coming.

"Because I'm an awful, terrible person," Chris said, shrugging his shoulders and smiling slightly.

Piper stamped her foot and jabbed her finger towards the door. "Just go."

"Okay. I'll just get my backpack and—"

"No…just…go." Piper demanded through clenched teeth.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist," Chris mocked her. He shut the door behind him even though he desperately wanted to see her reaction. He didn't fear the consequences now that he knew the truth. And man, it felt good to be bold and unafraid for once.

* * *

Wyatt wanted to scream. How were they going to follow through with the plan NOW? 

_He'd better get back here by dark, _he thought to himself angrily. Chris probably just provoked her to get kicked out and ruin the plan. Chris and all of his little safety precautions. He was such a freaking worry wart.

But Wyatt knew in his heart that Chris would have been kicked out either way. That was just the way it went.

_Ding-dong! _

"It's practically dinnertime," Piper snapped. "Who the hell comes over at dinnertime? I have half a mind to…those stupid salesmen…never left alone…" she muttered, answering the door with a rude expression glued to her face.

A pleasant woman only a bit older than Piper wearing a casual suit stood at the doorstep.

"Yes?" Piper prompted her impatiently.

The woman appeared a bit thrown off at her welcoming, but cleared her throat and composed herself.

"Sorry," Wyatt mouthed to her from behind the door. He thought he saw her wink.

"Hello. Mrs. Halliwell, is it?" the woman asked, extending her hand.

Piper ignored it and didn't shake. "_Ms_. Halliwell," Piper corrected. "What do you want?"

"Um…my name is Diana Parkins—"

"That's very nice, and maybe we'll donate to the pimple-faced kids in the school band another day, but right now I—"

"Let me speak," the woman commanded with a strong but still gentle voice. "I'll get down to the bottom of this as fast as I can. Basically, Ms. Halliwell, we detect a very high concentration of magical power from your home."

Piper's eyes narrowed. "Get off my property or I'll call the police."

The threat didn't phase the woman. "You're in no position to be threatening me, Ms. Halliwell. I can turn anything you say against you. Besides, I'm on your side."

Piper snorted.

"I come from a secret group called the Alliance—we combat the Witch Hunters to the best we can given the circumstances."

"And you're doing a hell of a job at it," Piper cackled bitterly.

The woman continued as if she hadn't heard. "We're here to offer you protection."

"Take your protection and stick it up your—"

"You do realize the dangers of this time?"

"You just want my money, bitch. I know you. I've seen you a million times, or at least people just like you."

The woman sighed. "If you feel that way…"

"I do. Good evening, then." Piper slammed the door in her face. "The _nerve _of some people," she ranted angrily. "I can't believe it. It's nuts."

* * *

Sean was trying to take a five-minute nap at his cubicle when his cell phone rang. 

"Yeah?" he answered groggily.

"Sean, it's me, Diana," said his co-worker on the other end.

Sean bolted up in his seat. "Diana, hi," he greeted her, suddenly alert. "The power source—did you get anything on it? How'd it go?"

"I have no idea yet. Could you put Travis on the line?"

"Sure. He just released his class from training." Sean held his hand to the speaker and yelled across the room, "Yo, Travis, it's Diana—she wants to talk to you."

Travis jogged over, taking the cell. "Thanks, Sean." He held the phone up to his ear. "Yeah? Any word?"

"Well, actually, I'm not sure if I got the right place. I thought I detected the power source in a manor home about ten miles from base, but…well, they seemed a little hostile. I just wanted to make sure that I had the right house before I dug in further. Could you look it up on the database for me?"

"Sure. Give me the codes for the specific map and program you used." Travis pointed to Sean's computer in question and Sean nodded, getting up from the cubicle. Instant coffee break.

Diana rattled off the codes for the specifics. "The power sources are in red."

"There are several throughout San Francisco," noted Travis, surprised. "Why haven't we tried to recruit all of them?"

"We have. They all refused. We've hit everyone in the area—everyone except, it seems, this house."

"I don't see a house lit up in red."

"Really? Look around the map. It was startlingly red, whoever—whatever—it was."

Travis scrolled around with the keys. "I've locked on it. It's on the move. About five miles south of us, heading this way."

"Okay. Let's not panic. Up the security, will you? Just don't make a big deal out of it. I don't want people freaking out."

"I'll go after it."

"Don't, it's too risky."

"Diana."

She sighed into the receiver. "…alright. If you must."

"Right. Now you just stay put, I don't think we should let anyone in or out for now. I'll up the security like you said, but I'm going to lock the doors."

"Gee, I'm sure everyone will think everything's just dandy when you do that."

"It's not like anybody knows we're here. Besides, we can unlock the doors in less than five seconds if need be; and no one has anywhere to go."

"Okay…just be careful, alright? We need you."

Travis grinned, watching the red speck as it slowly traveled north. "Thanks, Diana, but I'll be fine. Bye."

He hung up the phone and grabbed his coat. "You can have your cubicle back, Sean. First do me a favor. Put the security on red alert and lock the doors after I leave."

Sean's eyes widened. "It's that serious?"

"Nah. Just can't be too careful."

"I'm on it, then."

* * *

So? Sooooo? Lol. Thanks for all the reviews, guys. They're very inspiring. Lol. I especially love anyone who shares my mutual likeness of Drew. Drew Fuller lovers, one and all, review and make yourselves known! The lucky peoples touched by his amazing hotnessness must UNITE!

-A slightly eccentric Pink Charmed One-


	6. Chapter Six

Hey! I know it's been a while, but not to worry! I haven't given up yet. Lol. It's only been...very, very many months...:D (guilty grin).

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed.

* * *

Chapter Six (finally!) 

Chris shivered. At night it grew colder; that was the only downfall. It was growing dark now. Absent-mindedly he headed toward Travis' house. Maybe he'd run into him again and get to spy on him. He had to admit, he was awfully curious about that man. What kind of witch lived all by himself in the middle of San Francisco? At least Chris and his family were safe in the suburban edges of the city, where the Hunters didn't hit as often. And when they did hit, they certainly would pay people enough respect. There weren't any overturned trash cans or graffiti on the manor block.

He hugged his shirt tighter to him and thought about the mission tonight. He was seven miles out to Travis' now—if he wanted to get back to Wyatt, it might be too late. And he'd left his watch in the backpack Piper didn't let him retrieve, so he didn't even know what time it was. It seemed late, though.

Chris remembered the first time Piper had kicked him out. Probably about a month after Abby died, she'd blown up after Wyatt pushed him into a vase and it broke. Looking back, Chris realized it so easily could have been Wyatt that got kicked out that night. What if _Chris _had been the one to push Wyatt by mistake? Everything would be different. Chris would be the favorite.

Shivering harder, Chris decided he preferred being himself.

Although that first time he'd been scared senseless. Without any other place to go, he had run to the park and hidden underneath the play structure, wide awake the whole night. Every time he had heard a noise he'd freak out.

He'd come a long way since then, thankfully. Shadows didn't frighten him anymore.

Chris squinted ahead. Torches lit in the distance seemed to be heading his way. His heart fluttered; he knew there was no reason to be scared, but that didn't stop the rush of fear. Someday they might not ignore him as they blissfully had all these months. Someday he might be the one shrieking for mercy at their feet.

Suddenly his ears perked up. Behind him he could hear what sounded like an old engine of a car coming his way. Quickly he dashed into an alley, not choosing to be spotted from the road by anyone the Hunters might catch or accuse.

The car was right by the alley now. Any second it would drive away and disappear, headed straight for the Hunters. Chris gulped. He was about to run out and warn the person, but…the car stopped. Whoever was driving had parked the car right outside of the alley and slammed the door shut.

Chris' heart beat wildly. For a fleeting moment he feared the person would be able to hear it's incessant pounding, but he pushed the thought aside, hiding behind the dumpster.

"Hello?" a man's voice whispered. "Anyone here?"

Chris held his breath. Footsteps walked, closing in on him, right by his dumpster. Chris squinted to see the man's face, but all he saw was darkness.

The man looked straight at him. Chris' eyes grew as wide as saucers, anticipating the man's shout to the other Hunters. Surely that's what he was, walking in the streets so boldly.

But the man looked away. Was he blind? Chris wondered in awe. Maybe he'd just gotten really lucky.

"Is anybody here?" the man asked quietly again. He carefully lifted the lid of the dumpster, but closed it. Chris knew it was empty. Saturday mornings were trash days in this part of town.

The man began to leave. Chris heaved a sigh of relief.

"Aha!" the man cried. "I heard you. Where are you? How are you hiding…?"

The man turned around and came back, looking straight at Chris again without seeing him. Chris began to sweat. Either this guy was high on something or had really bad sight problems. Chris was practically in plain view now.

Tentatively Chris stood. The man didn't see. Chris dared to inch closer, trying to make out the man's face.

"T-Travis!" Chris choked, stepping back in shock.

"Who's there?" Travis whipped around. "Where are you?"

"I'm right here. It's me. Chris. Travis?"

"Chris?" Travis frowned. Then he remembered. "Chris! Why can't I see you?" he muttered to himself.

Chris looked at his hands…and didn't see them.

"Oh my god. I'm—I'm gone!" Chris squeaked. "I can't find myself! I'm invisible!"

"Kid? Where are you?"

"Right by the dumpster," Chris said, his voice shaking. He hit his right hand with his left. Yes, they were still there…just completely translucent. "Right here. I'm invisible. This is crazy."

"I guess that's how you hid from the Hunters, then," Travis chuckled to himself. "You're one lucky kid."

"This has never happened before." Chris started to panic and despite trying to hide it in his voice, he knew Travis could tell. "I don't remember it happening before."

"Calm down, kid. It's just a power. You're a witch."

"I know that!" Chris exclaimed. "I only do weak telekinesis, I can't do anything else!"

"Sometimes witches have more than one power," Travis explained to him. Voices sounded about a block away and he gasped. "We have to get out of here _right now._"

"How?" Chris demanded. "We can't take your car, they'll see us."

"See me," Travis corrected.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Looking for someone, none of your business," Travis said quickly. They could hear footsteps. "Oh, shit. I'm stuck."

Impulsively, Chris grabbed for Travis' hand and squeezed it. The effect was immediate. Travis vanished.

"What the hell--?" Travis looked down at the nothingness that he had become. "You can do that? I thought you said you'd just gotten this power!"

"I took a guess. Now shut _up_," Chris ordered, knowing the Hunters were near now.

* * *

Travis nearly snorted. Shut up? The kid was telling _him _to shut up? It certainly was laughable. But right now obviously wasn't a time for laughing, if not even breathing. The men were right outside the alley. Travis could feel it. 

He was vaguely aware of the kid shaking next to him. Travis wondered what the hell the kid had been doing in the alley in the first place. Was it coincidence, or was Chris the ominous power?

No, he couldn't be. He was only six and a half. Witches didn't get on the radar until their powers were fully developed around the early teenage years. Besides, he'd received the reading of the power journeying north a half an hour ago. For all he knew, the person had turned around and gone in a completely different direction. Meeting Chris was just chance.

Really, really lucky chance.

"Al, I thought I heard something back here."

Travis took a deep, silent breath, trying to calm himself. Chris squeezed his hand tighter, as if afraid he might lose hold. Two of the hunters walked into the alley. Travis grimaced, hoping the kid didn't make any noise. Kids were notorious for ruining things—that much he knew just from training fourteen-year-olds.

But Chris remained completely still. Travis wondered if he was holding his breath, too.

"Don't see anything. You sure?"

"Eh, I'm not sure. Maybe I'm just going bonkers. Long night, you know?"

"Yeah, long night and hard work," his partner replied, cackling. "This is the best job a man could ask for. Don't even have to go through police training to carry a gun." As if to make a point, the man shot the gun at the ground.

If the men hadn't been so drunk, they would have noticed that the bullet never touched the ground. Travis' eyes widened when he realized what had happened. He braced himself to run, anticipating Chris to cry out, but it didn't happen. Chris' grip weakened, but he stayed silent.

Eventually the entire pack of Hunters walked past the pair. Travis could see a small pool of blood forming on the ground and he winced.

Once all of them had disappeared and not one rowdy shout could be heard in the night air, Travis let go of Chris' hand. Both of them reappeared in an instant.

Chris immediately gasped for air and reached for his foot.

"Are you alright?" Travis asked, leaning down to take a look. The bullet was lodged in his right ankle. He knew right away there were broken bones to deal with.

"I'm—fine," Chris forced out, his face turning pale. He shook uncontrollably. "Just glad they're gone."

"Me too," Travis agreed. "That looks pretty bad. You think you can walk?"

Chris tested his foot, wincing when it came down on the pavement. "Yeah," he croaked out. "I'm good."

"It's just to the car. Here. Take my arm, I'll help you." Travis wondered if, perhaps, he was wrong about little kids. If they were all like this one, then he could have a ready trained force in no time. Whenever someone was hurt during a training session, they were out in a flash—sometimes when they weren't even bleeding.

Not that Travis couldn't sympathize with pain. He'd been through some himself in his life—nobody in the Alliance, not even the Brains, could say that they'd escaped pain.

"What—what are you doing out here, anyway?" Chris asked, trying to make conversation.

"I thought we agreed…no questions," Travis reminded him.

"Oh." Slowly, Chris edged his way into the passenger seat of the car.

Travis began to drive past his block, towards the Alliance.

"Where are we going?" Chris demanded.

Travis looked at him in the rearview mirror. He was sweating now and even paler than before, but somehow just as defiant as ever. "You want to fix that foot or not?"

"I don't need to get it fixed," Chris insisted.

"Why is that?" Travis asked sarcastically. "You want it to heal all by itself, then? Good luck with that. I'm not sure your parents would be too happy."

The kid rolled his eyes. "My brother can…" He bit his tongue.

"What?" asked Travis.

"No questions," Chris told him.

Travis tensed. "You're pretty annoying for a six-year-old."

"Thanks." Chris closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Why not?"

"We're almost there." Travis parked the car. "Hold on for a second, gotta make a call." But Travis could tell the kid was out like a light by now. He sighed and punched in the numbers.

"Hello?" Diana's frantic voice came on the other end.

"Hey. Must have missed the person in question, I patrolled the whole side of the city."

"You didn't find anyone?"

"Well, I found a kid. He's hurt. Might want to get someone from the Medical Ward out here. Take down the security so we can get in."

"Sure thing. Be right back." He heard her move around and heard the faint clicking off the buttons to disable the alarm system. "All clear. I'll get the Meds."

"Thanks."

"A kid?" she asked, making conversation. "What the hell is a kid doing out there in the middle of the night?"

Travis shrugged. "Something tells me he's not an ordinary kid."

* * *

And there it is, folks! I'll try not to be so overdue next time. I do apologize :D. Review, though! 


	7. Chapter Seven

No, you're not imagining this update. To tell truth, my whole comp died. All documents DIED. So I'm recreating what I THINK was the plot I intended...heh...I can't really remember, but I think I've got this one down. As for my other fics. Ahem. I'm working on it.

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Wyatt paced around the attic, trying to clear his head. The potions were all set in the fridge, added to the others they had in stock as inconspicuously as they could manage. He doubted anyone would look in there anyway, since they were having pizza ordered in for dinner. But Chris…he needed Chris. Not just his quick wit, but Wyatt didn't want to admit that he really needed Chris because—for the first time in his life—he was afraid.

Afraid that Piper may not be there. Afraid that Chris was right about Abby. Afraid of a lot of things.

"Wyatt! Chris! Dinner's ready," Phoebe called from the kitchen. "Hurry up!"

Wyatt sighed and descended into the kitchen, sitting down in front of a plate with pizza on it.

"Where's—" Phoebe looked around the room, finally locking her eyes on Piper. Piper looked away. "Where's Chris?"

"He left," said Piper simply, serving her a piece of pizza.

"Piper, you can't keep doing this! I figured I could let it go the first few times, but now it's really dangerous out there. I'm realizing how stupid I've been. How can I trust you with Paisley if I know you treat your own child that way?" Phoebe's eyes shimmered with tears. "_How can I trust you_?" she demanded when she didn't receive an immediate reply.

"Fine. Let's all gang up against Piper," Piper snarled angrily. "Let's all question the way she raises her children and beat her down."

"You're not raising him, Piper. You're killing him."

Piper turned red in the face. "Sometimes I wonder if you're even my sister," she said in a low, menacing voice.

Phoebe choked back a sob. "Sometimes, Piper, I wonder the _same thing_." She pushed her chair away from the table, leaving her pizza untouched, and grabbed Paisley's hand. "C'mon, Cole, we're leaving. While it's still early enough."

Cole frowned. "Where are we supposed to go?"

"We'll stay with Paige. She's got a double bed that pulls out from the couch in her apartment."

"We're going to France?" Paisley asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Yes, honey, we're going to France," said Phoebe, trying desperately not to cry. She stared at Piper long and hard. "If I could, I'd take Wyatt and Chris with me. But…" She gave Wyatt a piteous glance. "I can't."

"Leave, then," Piper spat. "I don't care."

Phoebe nodded. "I know."

The door slammed a minute later, leaving Wyatt and Piper alone. Piper dug into her slice of pizza and heeded little notice when Wyatt got up from the table and walked away, shutting the door to his room.

It was then that it hit him. If he wanted Chris, he could just go to Chris. It was as simple as one, two, three. Actually, as simple as one. Orb. That was it.

Piper's footsteps were audible on the stairs. As soon as she was in her bed asleep, he'd sense and orb out to Chris. He checked the beside clock. It was seven-thirty now; he'd have a little while to go. He sighed and started his homework in defeat.

Wyatt slumped at the first sight of his math homework. He _hated _math. Well, he hated school in general, but he really hated math. Sometimes it made perfect sense, but most of the time it just had him running around in circles.

Before he knew it, he was nodding off.

"_Piper, I can't handle this anymore." _

_Wyatt stood outside their doorway, straining to hear the words coming from his father's mouth. He was vaguely aware that Abby was missing. Weren't the adults all out looking for her? Why were his parents still here? _

"_You can't do this, Leo. Especially not now. We need you to help—"_

"_Piper. I can't sense her anywhere. The Elders need me…the Hunters are raiding and some of the students have unleashed some sort of parallel world. It's chaos Up There." _

"_She's your daughter!" Piper wailed. "You can't just leave her. We have to find her. She's out there with the Hunters." _

"_She's not out there anymore, Piper, she's dead." _

_Piper gasped and Wyatt heard the sound of her hand hitting Leo's face. It seemed to reverberate off the walls, mocking him, a little kid standing outside of his parents' room like a pathetic worm. Abby couldn't be dead. His father was _wrong. _He had to be wrong. _

"_How dare you?" Piper whispered. "I can't believe this. You know what? Go ahead and be a damn elder. Go ahead! You're never here anyway, it won't make a difference!" _

"_Piper—" Leo tried to reason, exasperated. _

"_No! I'm sick of it, Leo! You know what Abby called the construction worker yesterday? She called him Daddy. Because she hardly even knows who you are! The last time you came around was Chris' third birthday!" _

_Wyatt swallowed, feeling guilty. His father visited him all the time. Wyatt just wasn't quite sure he liked it, since Leo never wanted anything to do with his younger siblings. _

"_We shouldn't have had so many kids, Piper. There's no way we can handle it in this magical mess of a world, anyway." _

"_WE? What do you mean, WE can't handle it? YOU can't handle it. You could never handle it. I thought you were perfect, Leo. The way you held Wyatt, changed his diapers, put him to sleep and played with him. But I was wrong. Go be an Elder and STAY up there. It's the only thing you're good for in the world." _

"_Piper." _

"_I'm waiting for you to leave. _Go. _Before I blow you up." _

_Wyatt saw the orbs and knew where his father was going. A part of him wanted to cry, but mostly he felt empty. Abby was dead. His father was leaving. The front door slammed and Piper was gone too, out to find Abby. _

_Questions assaulted his mind. Witch hunters? Who were they? What did they want with Abby? What kind of parallel world? _

_He emptied his mind, expression blank. His room was pitch black when he arrived. His hand flew to the light switch, but Chris stopped him. _

"_Don't. Keep it dark," Chris said, voice cracking. "I don't want to see." _

_Wyatt nodded. "Neither do I." He didn't say a word about what he'd heard, deciding then that he never would. _

"_Wyatt…I…" Chris choked, suddenly crying out. "Abby!" he screamed, his five-year-old voice piercing the air. "Abby's in trouble! Aunt Paige! Aunt Paige!" _

"_Chris, calm down, they're gonna—"_

_Chris cried out again, curling into a ball. "It hurts, Wyatt, they're hurting her. AUNT PAIGE!" he yelled out again at the top of his lungs. "AUNT PAIGE! AUNT—"_

_He fell silent. Their world crumbled._

Wyatt woke with a start, his eyes wide. That night. The night Abby died. He'd never remembered it until just now, and it was all so clear in his head. A terrible nightmare relived…or a gift? Now he knew exactly when and why Leo had left. All the years he'd blocked it out of his head, he understood.

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Short, but there's more. Just not tonight. :D


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